The Journal of Warlord Jehricka A Mel'Romen
by Jehricka
Summary: A collection of bound and removed pages, as well as unsent and received letters are stacked and attached to the inside of the thick, blue leather-bound journal. "And I've just done so much, that I can't possibly be forgotten... Right..?"
1. I: In the Veil of Winter

**Wednesday, 13 December //**  
On the day Mi'Sa found me, if someone had said to me, "Jehricka, someday, you'll be great," I would have to have pondered on it and, as I grew older, categorized it as a cliché in the back of my mind. And yet...

I don't consider myself conceded. Personally, I think that I'm far from it in all the right ways. But I'm honest... I am a Paladine; a Harbinger of The Light && Retribution, an honored ally of the Prophet Velen and all his teachings. And proudly so. I have worked from a common thief and criminal in the walls of Silvermoon to a true force to be reckoned with -- a warrior of the Horde and a superior to those who belittled me so many years ago. I abandoned my sect and turned my back on those who sought to corrupt M'uru. I was purified by O'ros. I assisted in the demise of the traitor Kael'Thas, stormed Karazhan, cleansed the Plaguelands of the wretched Scourge alongside the Argent Dawn, and have purged the Outlands of the Burning Legion under the orders of High Priestess Ishanah and the Shattered Sun Offensive. I've met death in the position of a witness and a victim, and have come back with the vengeance of a woman scorned. I have defended the Basin and the Gulch and fought gallantly within the Valley; the Eye of the Storm held no contest for me.

And now, there is more to tell.

I stand within the deepest, darkest reaches of Northrend, exorcising the Scourge and all its allies. I've spilled the blood of many a Vrykul and Darkfallen with pleasure, escorted free-willed Death Knights through Orgrimmar and stormed Utgarde by their side. I've pledged allegiance to Lady Alexstrasza and fought beside the Dark Lady Sylvanas in a battle for the Undercity. I have battled in the name of Wintergrasp Fortress and blown the threats surrounding it to pieces. I have defended and killed a person more important to me than most in one fel swoop, and have found salvation from corruption in the arms of Arc; my comrades, my family, my friends. As we venture farther and farther into the depths of the Lich King's dark necropolis of Naxxramas and push ourselves closer still towards the Wrathgate, I can't help but feel the importance of my being beginning to escalate.

**  
****Thursday, 14 December //**  
Perhaps it's all for nothing, but maybe it's all for something. To strive for excellence was never my life goal, but slowly it's become a pattern in the people I know, and even those I don't. I never wanted to be a part of some silly fad where people fight and people die and are burned at a pyre or reborn as a servant of a spoiled brat tucked away in an all-but-impenetrable citadel. With a chance higher than half, being slain without a name to your corpse is not pleasing to me. I need to make myself known. I realize this is no longer an option.

My mother a famous, late Magistrix and my father a late assassin. I am sorry to say that I took neither path, nor a path that my adoptive family would have chosen. If this is failure, then I am proud to be one. Winning is overrated and my job as a Light-Bringer is not done yet. And perhaps I am not a true member of the Horde. The Light is for Alliance. I am a High Elf. No. A Blood Elf, a Sin'dorei. I am 82 years into life with a serious identity crisis. Am I doomed to be forever "For the Alliance"?

**  
****Friday, 15 December //**  
When I think, I think hard. That is to say, I became deeply worried about my standing within this war. There's the Scourge, there's the Horde and there's the Alliance. I was once dead, and thought I may fall under the category of savage husk, but it's an irrational statement, for my resurrection had nothing to do with Arthas. I am not a member of the Alliance; my trust was shattered before I had even learned to value the concept.

I am, always and forever, a High Elf by heritage, a Troll by nature, a Paladin by choice and a soldier by birth-right. I am "For the Horde". Lok'tar Ogar! Blood and Thunder, my brothers and sisters! I'm a horned and tusked, green-skinned corpse of Fel Magick. I serve the Light and my faction with pride. I am war-torn and radiant; a Peacekeeper and an Oathbreaker. I am a leader and a follower. I am so much more than anyone could have thought - a far cry away from the young girl running care-free through the jungles of Stranglethorn and the Barrens of Durotar.

And yet, I have not lost track of reality. I am not immortal, nor do I intend to search for a way to become immortal. I will die as my parents did, and as Mi'Sa and Jek'Kal did. I intend to be no exception to the laws of the world. But I hope that I make a difference. I pray that when my time has come, it will be a stark contrast to how my life has been until this point and not in battle. Though this is the life of a soldier, I suppose... But I've come so far... And I've just done so much, that I can't possibly be forgotten... Right?

-----

Harbinger of the Light, General Jehricka Mel'Romen {Ambassador of the Horde}

Aka'Magosh, Brothers and Sisters of the Horde.

"May the Warsong never fade..."


	2. II: The Citadel's Call

Recently, I've come to the realization that Death Knights are much more complicated than I had thought. It seems there's a great conflict - internally at least.

With all my time not able to really be spent anywhere except Silvermoon (ugh...), I've found myself in the company of a Death Knight - a Tauren. Oddly enough, I've come to enjoy it. I hadn't thought I would, but-... Well, as odd as it sounds, I feel very 'attached' to him.

Rakka; that's his name... In case I ever forget...

He's a sweetheart, really he is! I can't help but be reminded of a child... It's comforting. I miss that. Not too long ago, though, he told me the story of how he passed on, and his experiences under Arthas... What he could remember, at least. He also said that he needed to recharge; a left over hunger from when the Lich King had control. I can't say I fully understand it... And I really don't try to. I assume it's something like what drives us soldiers; revenge, honour, retribution, responsibility... Something like that, I guess.

Regardless. The way he explains it - the way it is - it's horrible. Even though I know he's probably the last person I need to be protecting, I feel like I have to help somehow. Maybe it's that 'righteousness' in me... Or... Pent up maternal instincts.. Who the hell knows?

Although everyone I've talked to about this has told me not to, I've managed to gain permission to visit my comrades in Icecrown at the Argent Vanguard, south of Scourgeholme. The leave I've been sentenced to doesn't bother them. All I have to say is that this will be... Interesting. I'll do my best to poke around the citadel and... Maybe I'll find something. There has to be a way to negate the hunger that Rakka experiences. Tiri's blocked it out... But you can't ask an MIA warrior exactly how to do that, now, can you?

I truly hope the Crusaders don't intend to babysit me. Nevertheless, I'm bringing Corris along as always, and Thaz'rim has been posted at Krasus' Landing. I'll keep the whistle close by, just in case the Vanguard has no place for the goober-of-a-windrider to be stationed. Anyway... I promise to, at least, make an effort - regardless of the consequences I face from the Warchief, the Baron, or anyone else for that matter. I believe I'll find something. I'm just not sure exactly what it'll be.... But I'll know it when I see it, and I hope that Rakka will be in the city when I return.

Until then...


	3. III: Dearest Condolences

**[[ The page is littered with semi-incoherent scribbles of frantic writing, ink blots strewn across the paper within the journal as if a nervous and jittery hand couldn't bear to control itself. What few punctuations there are on the page are nothing but careless, emphasized splotches. ]]**

Scary pain is not good please help help help help help -//-MAVERICK-//- sorr where is she pain hurts never again so so so sorrrry not the stay away from icec citidel not okay help please pain help help

stupid paladin fail hate city argents scarlets why no where is help rescue afraid so cold

cold

freezing

no one so much p

by light

THATT ARITH RAKKA DONT FORGET. DONT FORGET. DONT FORGET. p

ain hurts stop

**  
****[[ Attached to the page is also a letter, written in fine handwriting within an envelope, sealed shut with the silver, gold and black emblem of the Argent Crusade. It seems to be addressed to Lady Wolstenholme ]]**

_  
__Milady, ___

_I do hope you'll forgive us, but it seems that your Vanguard has stepped out of bounds, to say the least. Her reputation for weaseling seems to proceed her, and she quite lives up to expectations, at any rate. In her visit to the Argent Vanguard, southern Icecrown, she left the encampment and managed her way into Arthas's domain. Luckily, we of the Argent Crusade have set up our own small entry point within one of the walls of the citadel. It will not be long before it is discovered, but we can only be grateful that we were able to move in and out swiftly with the Captain in arms. ___

_Her condition is troublesome. Whatever was done to her inside, we can only take it into consideration that Arthas will certainly not be lenient and he certainly will not kill his enemies quickly. I will allow you to examine Capt. Mel'Romen on your own, perhaps with a priest or priestess to attempt a healing wave to bring her back to her full health. ___

_What you have most likely read in her journal is disturbing at best. We assure you her mind has been eased, courtesy of the Prophet Velen. Even in war, it seems, the two great factions can learn to assist one another, no? While I cannot guarantee her mental conditioning as of yet, it appears she is back to normal for the most part. I have traveled with her to Light's Hope Chapel, Eastern Plaguelands, in order to be certain everything is well with my soldier - as well as yours. Excuse any shyness or distance this young paladin executes. When you see her you will surely understand that it is necessary, for she has been through much for an elf so young in her years. ___

_I pray you stay well Baroness. Give your Baron Wolstenholme my warmest regards and relay to him that the Argents will lend a hand to your soldiers. After all, two of your high-ranking officers are both well-known and respected among our own ranks. I, personally, would be more than happy to storm through the gates of the citadel alongside you all. ___

_May the Light embrace you. Death to the Scourge! ___

_Sincerely, ___

_--Highlord Tirion Fordring, Supreme Commander of the Argent Crusade_


	4. IV: A Medical Update

**||Neat handwriting scribbles across the page, the lettering thin and looped. In the upper left-hand corner is the stamp of the Argent Crusade.||**

_4th day of March ___

_We have been observing Lady Mel'Romen's behaviour carefully over the past couple days. Mentally, she has improved greatly, even seeming more mature than ever. Physically, the Lady is not so well. Her condition seems stabilized at times, and can be improved, it seems, but only for a very short time. Our Priests and Paladins alike have tried to calm the disease that is ravaging her body; Even our druids have tried their hands... But it refuses to be cleansed. ___

_Symptoms: ___

_* violent coughing, sometimes including blood __  
__* reopening of sealed scars __  
__* rotting flesh __  
__* splotches along the backs of the hands __  
__* limp favouring the left leg ___

_-All symptoms increase and decrease in severity depending upon amount given in her healing sessions and the intervals in between. ___

_We suggest that the Baron and Baroness Wolstenholme assign healers of Arc or affiliated guilds/known acquaintances to assist the Lady when the Dawn and the Crusade cannot be present. It is imperative that Miss Mel'Romen is helped, for we fear her condition may ultimately worsen over time without constant treatment and, unfortunately, become fatal. ___

_Thank you for your time and cooperation. We hope to see the Captain on the front lines quite soon. ___

_Wishing you all well, __  
__Head Battle Cleric, Allira Songshine of the Argent Crusade __  
__Argent Vanguard, Southeastern Icecrown_

---

**||Written on the parchment of the journal, beneath the letter attached to the page, is the same writing.||**

_Miss Jehricka, please do not forget to deliver this letter to the Commander and Baroness. Lord Fordring also reminds you to deliver his message, given to you several days ago. Please be well & may the Light protect you. __  
__Affectionately, __  
__~Alli-era*_

**||Both letters sit withing the pages of Jehricka's diary, unread and undelivered...||**


	5. V: Stress of a Soldier

Why must everyone try so hard to keep me alive? It grows on me and irritates my nerves. There's much I've done wrong and, not three years ago in the Plaguelands, I met my end already. It has occurred to me that, perhaps, I was meant to die before my time. The lifespan of us elves are much too long, anyway. Many, if not all the friends I have made... They will all pass before I reach my middle years. It's almost cruel. This, however, seems fair. The Argents believe me to be ill. I can tell them everything that's the matter with me, and it wouldn't make a damn difference in all of Azeroth.

I'm dying.

Just in case it wasn't obvious. The "worst part" can be torn in two; the fact that I'm fully aware, and/or the fact that I'm dying slowly.  
Feh.  
Either way, things will fall into place. I will be sent off and forgotten as all soldiers are, and my writings and ideas will be lost in the stream of time. I am curious as to how I will remain a Paladin - especially one graced by the Naaru. I can feel the grasp I held so firmly on the Light slipping through my fingers like water. Tragic, I suppose. Sad? Whatever. I consider myself... Indifferent. Yes, it bothers me a little, the fading Light, but there's nothing to do but sit and wait. I **hate** waiting...


	6. VI: Clarification and Fatal Pondering

Alright, my last entry was angry and irrational. Let's try again...

I have to admit that my situation is annoying, at best. My head feels like it's going to explode, for I've never really thought this much about one thing. Actually, I never imagined I'd be thinking about this. Didn't think there'd be anything to think about, y'know? I mean, hell, I'm dying. Slowly, but it's happening. S'probably what's gotten me so out of whack lately; knowing what's going on and too much time to process it and let it sit... Ugh.

So... Kids. Yeah... Light knows it'll happen again. Don't know if I'm ready. What if it gets sick from me..? I wish I wasn't thinking about it... What if this ends up like the last time? I don't see him a lot either. What if I get tired of being alone? Eh... maybe that's how it's supposed to be? Part of me wishes it's not, but maybe it could be a good thing? Maybe. Whatever... Doing good with not sweating all this around people, though. Especially Faelin.  
By the Light, she's a sweetheart. Awfully sad, though. At least I'm able to cheer her up, which makes me happy. I love her smile. Turns out, though, she's Bellamuerte's ex (proving, once again, that I get wrapped up in unhealthy situations and excessive drama). The way she's always sad makes me wonder what the damn woman did to her. I never understood the reasons people have to hurt others just because, and then laugh and profit from it later. I give up understanding people nowadays. A majority of them are arrogant and the other half are, well, they're just so beyond words and they're not worth even my time. And I'm not worth a lot, so that's saying something.

**(("Shit! Smudged the damned page!")) ****  
****||The last half of the previous paragraph is smudged into the rest slightly, dried ink binding cigarette ashes to the parchment. ||**

Anyhow... Lec's acting all odd because he's smitten with me and bent out of shape because I won't tell him my business. What the hell, you know? It's my business. I shouldn't have to tell anyone antyhing. Dammit. Ugh... This is why I'm not a social dragonhawk. If I am, there's too many people trying to get in my business and that's unacceptable and annoying as fel.  
Some people know because I choose to tell them. Simple, right? You'd think so. But, no sir!

Fae knows... Vaguely. She's seen under the mask, at least, and that seems to satisfy her, which is good. So has Rakka. I wish he'd only seen the scarring instead of the rot because, let's face it, that's disgusting. Of course, Cel knows, too. He's worrying and fussing... Not too attractive of a rugged bodyguard, heh. Cute all the same, though. He has a boyish charm so, how could I not tell him?

I wish Ari would come back from whatever he's doing in Hillsbrad. I'd like to keep him informed because... I've hidden too much from the others. Hopefully, he'll be back soon. I miss Ari... A lot. It's... Kind of silly, but.. I don't like him not being around...

Also, I think I'm being stalked in Silvermooon... Which... Isn't necessarily uncommon, but it's creepy. I have hunches as to who it is, but we'll wait and see. Unfortunately, the leg is acting up again, so I'm afraid that I have to cut this awkwardly long entry short (...?).

Holding out 'til next time.


	7. VII: Just For Him

The first time I formerly met him was atop Duskwither Spire. I can't remember what he was doing there, but it had been after Jesseira tried to throw me out of Silvermoon, after I had that fight with Maverick. I wasn't doing anything but sulking, but he didn't seem to mind, really. He actually liked the company.

About two or three months ago, he found me again in Murder Row on leave, smoking and relaxing, still half crazy and distraught over my family. Or lack there of. He talked sense into me that day... And I was alone long enough to invite him for dinner the next night. He didn't show up... Or the night after... It was three days before he came to the suite in Fairbreeze Village. By then, I had decided I wouldn't be cooking. I didn't think he would mind.

We smoked and talked, but I can't remember what about. He smelled like strong spices and sulfur and he sat in an arrogant way that would bother me otherwise, but it never did. I liked it...

I wanted to tell him how I felt. But I'd given myself too much credit. We walked to Sunstrider Isle and relaxed somewhere behind the academy. "I used to skip classes and come out here to climb this tree," he told me. And in the silence that followed, the confessions I wanted to spill swelled in my chest and made my eyes water. I figured I would approach it as smoothly as possible, so I asked; "...How are you two doing?"

They were part of each other. With a family. It was like they were one person, like there was some sort of unnatural force that brought them together and kept them that way. Their love was strong and unbreakable.

I was weak and broken. And alone.

I remember trying my best not to cry, but I couldn't help myself. The more I tried to hold it in, the more tears seemed to swell up. I was afraid. And hurt. So I ran, like always. Like the Plaguelands. Unlike Wintergrasp. Like when Ranion died at the hands of the Scourge invasion. Unlike when Kael'thas challenged those opposed to him and the Legion. It wasn't new for me to run from emotions... Especially this one.

When I left him alone on that island, without an explanation, I only could will Corris so far before he felt there was something amiss. His joints hadn't been properly worked that day... And he collapsed. And so did I. Right onto the bank across from the small Blood Knight caravan and the Farstrider messengers. The water was cold and soaked through my robes. The materials got too heavy, and all I could do was crawl beneath the small bridge, back to alabaster, and cry. I must have cried quietly at first, because I heard his horse move overhead. After who knows how long, I screamed. For a long while. One long scream until my throat closed, my vocal chords shrank and the back of my mouth burned like fire.

It hurt.

Not the loss of my voice. Not the pounding headache from crying and hitting my head constantly against the stone.

It was different. Internal and scarring. Something I'd carry around with me; something that hurts even now. It's like a wound that won't stay closed. But I don't think about it anymore. I'll try not to think about it after this. This is the place I put my feelings and my thoughts. A soldier can't have such things about them. They can falter, they can die.

I'm not sure if I regret not telling him, but it doesn't matter, because I wouldn't dare spoil his happiness. And I may not like _her_, but she's a much better significant other than myself. I'm not much of anything. I lose whatever I care for. It's a frightening thought, but it happens.

These pages, however? These are just for him. Someone I loved for a very long time. I can't tell you if I feel the same way now. I could, but I won't. That's painful for me, and trouble for him. And this is for his happiness.

This is just for him.


	8. VIII: 'Til the End

I've been worrying about him...

This is no surprise, because I tend to worry a lot. But... It had been weeks. I had to find him... I had to make sure he was okay.

I checked all his residences. No one had seen him in the city, so I figured I needed to check the Outlands and Northrend. He wasn't in Nagrand, nor in Terrokar. Fortunately, for myself, I had luck in Dragonblight... If you could call it luck.

I took Thaz'rim from Krasus' Landing and traveled towards the necropolis. He had set up a camp for himself near there in the hills. It looked empty, or so I thought. However, I managed to find a wolf... I wasn't expecting it, that's for sure. Seemed hostile... Growled at me, even...

Then something happened I didn't expect...

Twisting apendages and contortions of the figure and in the wolf's place lied a man. I panicked and hurried over - he was unconcious and his face covered by a hood. I turned him over, trying to wake him up...

And there he was.

Missing-in-action for almost a month... Because he was here; secluded and... With something seriously the matter. Celiva... What happened to you..?

I wasn't sure what to think, and my head whirred with either confusion or pregnancy sickness... Or both. He gained conciousness again and jumped back in a panic... He had no idea who I was. But I knew who he was, even though he had changed. No more of those gorgeous blue eyes... His features were odd... More defined. Handsome and frightening all at the same time. His canines - both top and bottom - those were enlongated and dangerous.

What in Azeroth..? Why hadn't he told me?

Just like that, though, he was doubled over in pain and my heart shattered. He turned back into a wolf and Thaz'rim went back on the defensive, growling at him in protection. In that time, he backed down and attacked a nearby rabbit instead... Apparently, he'd been hungry. And, once he'd finished, he came back to himself again.

He looked highly confused and fainted at the blood painted on his fingers and caked across his face. I stood there for a long time; I didn't know what in the seven hells I was supposed to do... But, I went to him... And he came to once more.

There was lots of crying from me... He didn't know me anymore... He was... Just an animal. So I cried... I cried hard. I cried for him and for me - mostly out of self-pity - and for the baby. I cried for our family... Or what it would have been. I was scared, confused, and hurt... What else could I do but cry?

Finally, though, he seemed to recognize me. He smelled my hair, put a hand on my stomach, and licked my face like a dog... I can still feel the blood rubbing off onto my cheek.

I felt even sicker, and I couldn't hold back tears any more... So I moved away. I wanted to be alone for a while, but he wanted the opposite and set his chin on my shoulder. Still scared, I pulled away, and he moved back into the small hut. I don't know how long I was standing out there in the cold, but I couldn't feel my body when I finally brought myself to turn and follow him.

I stared at him, laying on the ground, ears twitching. So much like a dog...

I didn't want to touch him, to be honest... I was angry, I guess you could say... Angry... And other things... For some reason, I felt like I should hate him... I felt like... Like he was keeping secrets and lying... I felt he didn't want this - what we had and were going to have... I just didn't know where to go from here... Or what to do... Dammit.

I remember that I sat on the other side of the hut... I composed myself and, before I knew it, he had managed his head into my lap, whimpering like a wounded, rejected puppy. I couldn't turn him away, and I wouldn't pull back again... So I sat there with him the whole night... I don't know if he ever fell asleep, but I know I didn't... I found the wall across from me very interesting those some-odd hours I sat there with him, scratching and playing with his hair like I always did.

I tried very to convince myself things were normal, but every now and then he would let out a rumble of a growl and I knew things would never be how they were.

Admittedly, I still don't know what to do. I'm unsure of him and if he'll ever be intelligent enough to stop acting like a dog again. I wonder where the bite he had on his arm actually came from. What'll happen to the baby? Will I have to raise it myself? Have I picked someone else who can't stay with me? Have I just put myself in another hole..?

I wish I had answers, I really do... I can't let this die, and I want to help him... But I'm so tired... So tired of everything... I'm retired and pregnant... I just want to give up... But I won't. Because of him. And my friends... For the baby... But I don't want to go this alone, not again. I hope everything works out... I want it to, and I pray it will... I really have been praying...

Please don't take him away. Don't let him live like he is now... Help him, someone..? Anyone. He doesn't deserve a life like that... He deserves so much better. He needs to live life like it should be lived and not how an animal lives it. He needs his adventure and he needs to be social... He needs what I need. And... I need him. I hope he needs me... I want him to try and reach me. I want to know that I'm not just another person for someone to push aside... Even if he can't help it.

I can't do this alone... And I can't do this again. I'm losing sleep and he's breaking my heart, but what can I do..? How can I fix it this time..?

...He can't NOT be okay... I love him too much.

I love him.  
Please be okay... Even if you're not... I'll stay with you.  
'Til the end.  
I promise...


	9. IX: Here's to a New Future

[The page is water stained, tinted red. It appears to be wine.]

It's becoming increasingly harder to write in this thing, but I'll try for the sake of my sanity— I've been having nightmares, you see... And I'm losing too much sleep, and my mind is busy, and I have not seen Vaemon in nearly three weeks, maybe more.

I'm pregnant again. At least a month and a half along. I say it like that, because it's how everyone else says it. This time it's a boy, I hear. But we can't be certain. I would send word to him, but I don't know where he is, exactly. Regardless, I wouldn't disturb him. I'm smoking again, too. But not often. This is my first one, but I figured I should maybe keep tabs on how many I smoke and how often. Maybe in another three months I'll have another. I think I'll need it. As the new year rolls closer, I grow more anxious and I can't seem to get rid of this feeling of dread. I've been ill from far more than just morning sickness.

Something terrible is going to happen. I can feel it. Korisus seems to agree, and he thinks that I'm not quite overreacting. Perhaps not on the outside. I'm more or less disturbed by the letter and scale that Ellorah showed me. The scale is still glowing, still pulsing, as if it were alive. I'm very afraid for what the coming months will bring.

Why is it that no matter who it is, they are always elsewhere? I'm unsettled by the consistency in the relationships I've had. The disappearing trick is mystifying to young minds, but I've since grown up and now it's nothing short of distressing. I love Thaliia, and I love this child, but I'm not sure I can raise them on my own. I wish that I could give someone an ultimatum, but it would be filled with hypocrisy because I know that the moment I can, I will return to Northrend and fulfill my duties as Siegebreaker and a Crusader. I know the people I leave my children with, and I trust them, but it does not make me a good parent.  
I am imperfect and I have torn values. I do not claim to be ignorant to it but I wish things were different. I also realize thought that in order for things to be different, I must go away sometimes. I refuse to let these two grow up in this world. I want so much better for them and I will make it better. I will not let things get worse. They don't deserve to live around and deal with the problems that their parents and previous leaders have caused among one another. They will not fight in battle as I have. They will not see the things that I have seen. No one needs to see their friends bleed to death, or have limbs ripped from their bodies. No one deserves to be bedridden and fear the use they may no longer get from their arm. No child needs to grow up and experience that.

And yet... At the same time... No child deserves to lose a parent. I cannot guarantee that I will always come home, and I cannot guarantee that if I fight things will be better the next day. This is, unfortunately, the way the world works. But something that I know is that every time a battle is fought, and every time a soldiers falls, things are one step closer to getting better. No matter how small the step is. Things can escalate until they break, but even then the only thing left to do is fix it. I want to fix it.

There isn't enough happiness in this world... If only briefly, I wish for a calm where children can play in their towns or cities without having the risk of being caught by the patrol of an opposing faction. I wish the story of Giannah did not ring true for more than a handful of people. Raiding, rape, manslaughter, torture, slavery. Even Orcs have been proven to be civilized, unless our Warchief is truly a barbarian. Then Wrynn must not only be an imbecile, but a monster. There's no reason that the Horde and Alliance can't get along as well as their counterparts within the Crusade, or the Druids of Cenarion. Things like that never really did make much sense to me...

Regardless... Here's to a future... I hope that my nightmares stay in my head.


End file.
